


CUFFED

by DeadStar



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles, S.W.A.T. (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 07:23:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadStar/pseuds/DeadStar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Brian Gamble one shot featuring you as the original female character, you are a UK government agent (MI6) working with NCIS Los Angeles. This takes place a few months prior to the events in SWAT and Gamble's turn to the 'dark side'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	CUFFED

The cuffs were unnecessary, wasnt like you were going to make a bolt for the nearest exit and they dug into your wrists like a mother fucker. The desk sergeant had smirked when he saw what the new guy had brought in and proceeded to book you in for what the newbie had clearly listed you down as, drunk and disorderly, starting a bar fight and as you so eloquently put it, finishing it too.

You were led down the ample corridors towards the cells by the same newbie and an older, more experienced on duty uniformed officer as he sighed and looked down at the line of cells noting that they were particularly full for that time of the evening and so had no other choice but to shove you in with an already occupied cell.

“Play nice Gamble” he poked a finger in the direction of a guy who was sat in one corner, feet up on the hard, wooden bench and back to the wall.

You rolled your eyes, this was not how you had envisioned spending what was left of your weekend off, however you didn’t envision getting into a bar fight either but hey, shit happens. You turned and held out your hands and waited for the newbie to unlock the cuffs, rubbing at your wrists noting the already red marks that had been left by the over tight steel rings.

“This isn’t protocol” your English accent cut a swathe through the majority of LA accents that took up the corridor and rooms alike.

“Limey’s trying to teach me the rules and regs here Sarge” newbie snorts with an unconvincing laugh which filters from the back of his throat as he checks his cuffs and slides them away.

“Prick” you mumble under your breath as you plant yourself down on the only other bench in the cell.

The cell was away from the majority of the others, in an annex of its own like anyone who was to spend time in it was because they murdered someone and was needed to be kept away from the rest of the dregs of society. In fact, there was a door that separated you from the main annex of cells, a lot could happen in the quietness of the small annex and the single cell located there, nobody would be none the wiser.

“You say something?” the newbie pressed his face up against the bars on the cell as the door was slowly slid closed.

“You have a nice night officer” you replied with a touch of sarcasm as the older police officer looked into the cell at the pair of you and shook his head slowly before heading off, newbie lingering around for a few longer seconds before finally following him out.

Your cell mate had more or less kept to himself, he hadn’t moved from his position or made a noise to even acknowledge your presence which was fine by you, you just wanted the night to be over with so you could head home in the morning with a smack of the back of your hand and quite possibly a fine for breaking the bar window which you were sure wasnt entirely your fault to begin with.

The silence lasted for what must of been an hour or so before silent man finally shifted in his position and planted his feet firmly down on the floor and from out of the corner of your eye you caught him run a hand through short cropped spiky hair before his head came up to give you a proper look.

“Nice ink” he muttered as you finally turned to get a better look at him.

He was pointing to your right upper arm, the celtic tree of life in its blacks and greys was still as prominent as it was the day you had it done all those years ago back home in the UK. You mumbled a thanks and nodded your head as you noted he had a few of his own up and down his arms and as if on cue he rubbed his arms, over the prominent veins that stood proud under the veil of skin there.

“So, what you in here for then?” he was upright now, stretching those arms above his head trying to break the stiffness that had crept in.

“Fighting” you say as if its par the norm and he smiled as if understanding.

“Don’t tell me, Macy’s gotta sale on and there was a purse you had to have” he laughed at his own joke and you rolled your eyes and turned your head to stare at him.

“Ha ha, you’re so funny” you reply as you note the clothes he’s wearing. Blue jeans, a plain black tee shirt that seems to accentuate the toned muscles and torso underneath and some kind of retro looking military jacket that obviously had seen better days.

“So, not Macy’s then huh” he tilted his head and looked up at you, a cocky grin on his face.

“If you really must know, I got a little shit faced and picked a fight with an overbearing Italian who thought he was the reincarnation of the Godfather. He tried to grab my breasts and I punched him in the balls…it was all over rather quickly. At some point there was a broken window involved, someone’s head down the toilet as it was being flushed…a jukebox playing shitty tunes and warm beer” you say as you finally roll your leather jacket up into a ball and put your feet up on the wooden bench you occupy before laying your head down on your jacket.

Quite frankly, it was all you could remember for the most part but you do remember not being alone, there were others in your party and whatever happened to them you could not for the life of you remember. The red mist had come down pretty hard by then and you were in full fight mode when the commotion kicked off, it had always been one of your downfalls, your temper.

“Warm beer, hell, Id start a riot too if they served me warm beer” he let out a small laugh and you could feel the corner of your lips twitch.

“What about you?” another six hours of silence you could of done with but your cell mate was intent on conversation and so you entertained the idea of just conversing with the man.

“Same thing…some guys took a dislike to the way I was clocking the blonde at the pool table and the next thing I knew I was being thrown over the same pool table by a big asshole biker” Gamble replied as he rested his arms onto his thighs, leaning forwards as he stared at your ass kicking combat boots up on the wooden bench.

“That is in no way the same thing, I got groped, you were perving” you reply as you stare at the off white coloured ceiling noting the multiple holes that seemingly occupied the paintwork.

“Still got thrown in here for fighting” he replied as he tilted his head as if trying to get a better look at you.

It was useless, the bench was bloody uncomfortable and after ten more minutes you resigned yourself to sitting back up, rolling your neck to loosen up stiff neck muscles whilst all the time acutely aware the guy was watching you with fascination. What was his name again? Gamble, that’s what the officer had said when they had approached the cell, hell it was even printed on his arm maybe in case he forgot his own name?

“So, what exciting day job do you do?” you rolled your head to the right and gave him a good once over and noted properly just how toned he actually was and that was a slight turn on for you even if you didn’t care to admit it.

“SWAT” he said straight away and there was a smile tugging at his lips as you stared at him noting how his tongue snaked across his bottom lips slowly and purposely before his eyes cast themselves south.

“Bullshit” you replied as he laughed and leant back up against the wall.

“Mama, Im like James Bond, licence to kill…Brian Gamble, SWAT, at your service” he laid the palm of his left hand against his chest and put on a terrible English accent.

“So, you like it shaken or stirred?” you hike up an eyebrow in his direction and he let a laugh roll around deep from within his chest, those icy eyes glinting as he looked back up at you.

“I like it straight up, no dainty glasses, no olives…although I have been known to use ice cubes in the bedroom” there was a feral look to him as you listened to his voice, it was dripping with flirtation and sexual innuendo.

Gamble watched as you moved again, his eyes have never left your body once he had started conversation and you were acutely aware of this fact and rather enjoyed the sensations you were feeling because of it. It had been a while since you had spent any time in male company that wasnt professional and discounting friendship, a total stranger was turning you on no end not that you allowed your body to betray you of that fact. You weren’t easy, that wasnt how you rolled, no you were a tease when you wanted to be but sometimes it was easy being that way as it got the job done when need be.

Gamble rubbed his eyes with the balls of his palms, what was going to be another long boring night stuck in the cell waiting for Jim to come spring him in the morning so that Fuller wouldn’t get wind of it and chew his ass out for showing up the department, had actually turned out to be quite enjoyable.

“So, you’re not a sex on the beach kinda guy, I get it” you turned your head away and smiled.

“Depends whether we are still talking drink here mama?” sucking in a breath you had been holding you knew that the next six hours were now going to be impossible to be sensible if he was going to continue to talk to you like he was manning a telephone sex line.

His cell mate for the remainder of the evening wasnt some burly assed looking guy with equal amounts of tattoos and breath that could ignite should he stand too near to a naked flame or some asshole jock who was caught speeding in Daddy’s sports car. No, the evening was turning out to be pretty exceptional in Gamble’s books, by the end of the day he was hoping to at least get a number, possibly a grope maybe even a blow job if he was extra lucky but he scrapped that last mental image as he readjusted himself in his jeans not wanting to spend any more time uncomfortable in that department.

“Whats up? Cock got an itch or summat?” her voice filtered through his ears as his head sprang up and looked at her watching him.

“What?” he asked, he moved his hands away from his crotch far too quickly.

“You’ve been fondling junior ever since I walked in here, either you got some unspecified rash cause blondie at the pool table gave you more than you bargained for or you’re thinking dirty thoughts and you have to readjust” she deadpanned him as he felt the heat creep up his face.

Was it getting warm in here? Turning your head again you noted his eyes hadn’t left you and you both had what only playground children would say as a staring competition, one which neither of you were willing to be the first to look away from. Gamble was truly lost for wards, it was a rare occassion indeed for the most forward male in the unit to be struck stupid by a woman but on this occassion it had finally happened and he had no comeback for her.

“Dirty thoughts then” you give him a smile before looking away and staring at the wall opposite where a previous tenant had daubed on the once pristine white wash with a black marker.

“Jesus woman, you’re not backwards in coming forwards are ya?” Gamble finally cleared his throat and felt his jeans rub him in his special place again.

“What is the point of beating around the bush, say what’s on your mind, life’s too short to spend the next 12 months trying to take someone on a date only to find they aint interested in you but your flatmate” you shrug speaking from personal experience.

“Guy’s a prick if he did that to you then” he raises his eyebrow at you and before you know it he is walking over to you, sitting down next to you on the bench and is staring at the same wall you are until he slides his face towards you, so close that you feel his breath on the side of your neck.

Boy, were you going to be hung over and quite possibly regretful in the morning as you feel his left arm pass across your shoulder and his fingers snake out and tease the hair in your ponytail. Yes, that guy had certainly been a prick and then again so had your flatmate but that was neither here nor there as Gamble reached up to the elastic that had been holding your hair up and began to slowly pull it down allowing your hair to fall around your shoulders.

His face had gotten nearer as he leant in and took a sniff of your hair, it seemed to please him as he ran the tip of his nose between the strands till it reached the skin of your neck. You felt yourself tilting your head in kind allowing him better purchase to your body as his other hand slid over your thigh and finding your right hand he gives it a little squeeze.

“He certainly was” you finally answer as Gamble’s tongue slowly licks behind your ear teasing your ear lobe with his teeth attentively and Jesus, you know that you shouldn’t be doing this in a jail cell of all places but god help you, you are so enjoying the show that’s going on.

“If you were my girl, Id worship you twenty four, seven” he mumbles into your ear and right there and then you bite down on your lower lip before sucking in a breath.

“Well, I do like a man in a uniform” you say and you feel him smiling against your neck as his lips move round then.

Gamble was living up to his surname as he chances a move towards your soft lips and places his own over yours with a soft caress, you feel them encapsulate yours fully and the kiss deepens after a long ten seconds as his tongue demands entrance into your mouth and as you feel it dance against your own, his hand is running through your hair.

He notes that you taste of beer and smell of some musky perfume that to him is so intoxicating as he pulls you closer till there’s no more room between you and he feels like its not enough and so pulls you up and onto his lap feeling you straddle his legs and the space between you is null and void. His hands creep up onto your hips feeling the hem of your top soft against his fingertips, sliding them up and underneath so he can feel skin.

Your hair tickles the skin on his neck and face but he doesn’t break contact with you and you don’t even try to restrain yourself, you are too lost in the moment anyway to even want to stop yourself from committing quite possibly a cardinal sin but you aren’t religious so who cares? Finally, you run your fingers through his hair which is surprisingly soft considering the style he has it in, you imagined a ton of product keeping that spiky job in order but no, the hair is certainly very graspable.

You bite his lower lip and cause him to moan, your teeth copying his moves on your ear as his hands move around to your ass and pulls you in closer to him before they return to their former position on your hips so you chance a hand slip under his own tee shirt and drag your fingers up and over the skin there and note as his breath hitches and he leans back to look you in your eyes and you both wear the same look, the look that demands special attention be paid tonight to certain parts of the body.

He removes his hands from your body and pulls his tee up and over his head, throwing it across to the other bench where it misses and falls to the floor but he doesn’t care. You stare at his chest and slowly lean in and begin to trace the area around his left nipple with the tip of your tongue, it must be his favourite place because he gasps and leans his head up against the wall behind him.

His hands are back in your hair again, fingers running down the entire length and back up again before wanting you out of your t-shirt which you comply with and for a few long seconds he truly looks at you, your black, lacy bra invites him in as he smiles at you. You close the gap and he begins to kiss your collar bone as a hand slides over a breast and massages it and you feel your body collectively heat up in want and lust, demanding to be explored more and enjoyed.

His mouth is back on your lips but his hand remains locked on your breast, teasingly so as you begin to feel his erection pushing against your inner thighs desperate to get to its adjective. Gamble is muttering words into your mouth but you can’t make out what he is saying as you feel his other hand move down to the zipper of his jeans, the sound of it slowly being taken down echoes around the cell.

“Fuck me” he says more out of desire and want than a command, he is touching himself as he continues his assault on your breast and your mouth.

Ten minutes of solid heavy petting, Gamble for the first time in his life is quite possibly having second thoughts of doing it in a jail cell as he continued to ravage the skin on your neck. He was harder than hell and it looked as if you were getting impatient with the constant fondling, in his eyes he was losing the game fast but in your eyes he was making you wetter than you could possibly imagine.

“You losing interest SWAT man?” you ask as you pull back from him, he looks up at you and shakes his head.

“No mama, not at all, I..uh..jail cell an all” he replies.

“Seriously?” you let out a small laugh and place your hands against the sides of his face, looking deep into his eyes.

You’re not a slut, far from it but if the guy starts something he can’t finish, it kinda ruins your mojo, a guy just can’t get you riled up then stop. You smile at him, you understand though as its not exactly the most convenient place you’ve nearly had sex, certainly not the most adventurous either, not by a long shot. He brushes the hair from out of your face, a slight sheen of sweat has built on your skin as his thumb delicately brushes over your lower lip.

“Mama, you’re so fucking hot and you’ve no idea how much I want to do this, no fucking idea…” he stops mid sentence like a light switch has flipped on inside his brain, its not because his thought processes have kicked in, its mostly because your hands are now wrapped around his hard cock inside his jeans and all rational thoughts have gone out the window.

“Oh, I think I have an idea” your English accent soothes into his ear and his eyes roll back into his head.

“Good Lord” he mutters almost lost in the moment as he feels himself loosening up.

“But then again, who am I to force the issue” you shrug, the devil in you coming out as you get up off of his lap, hands removed from his jeans and you start to look to the floor for your tee.

“Baby, you win…damn…get your ass over here” he growls as his head snaps forwards and pulls on your wrist, Gamble decides to take the lead as he pulls you stand between his legs.

Slowly his hands undo the fly on your jeans and with fingers, slide them down your tanned legs, the Los Angeles sun agreeing with your porcelain skin in the last three weeks that you have been here. He takes your black panties with them and all the while he is biting on his lower lip as he admires you standing there knowing full well that at any time the both of your could be rumbled.

“Jesus” he rumbles as his hands push his own jeans down and watches as you move to sit back in his lap.

You feel him enter you, slowly, your breath comes in long and ragged pants matching his own as he feels himself sink deeper into you. Hands grasp tightly onto your hips as your own grip does at his neck as you roll your hips sending him deeper into you and Gamble moans a little louder than he anticipated. You cover his mouth with your own, you don’t need the world and their father knowing what the pair of you are doing in the cell.

Your rolling hips cause all amounts of intense pleasure as you both try to stop each other from alerting others down the corridor to what you are doing but you both cannot stop the guttural sounds that leave your throat no matter how hard you both try and repress them. He raises his hips in time with you, staying par the course each time your body slips down on him. His hands hold onto you desperately keeping contact, skin on skin as you forehead comes to a stop on his right shoulder as the constant waves of orgasm peak and twist deep inside of you.

“Fuck me” Gamble mutters in between short breaths, your bouncing on his lap causing sensations he can’t control until finally he finds strength in his legs and lifts you.

Staggering towards the back wall, he pushed your back into it as your legs wrap around his waist feeling his cock drive forcefully and deeper into you. You have to bite your lips hard from calling out his name over and over as he drives into you harder than ever before. You hold on for dear life as Gamble is almost reaching his own sense of nirvana, part of you wished you had managed to hold out for a proper bed but your body defiled your wishes and basically told you to jump the shit out of him.

“Almost there mama” he manages to grunt out between thrusts, you have orgasmed so many times that you’ve lost count but every fiber of your being is praying that he comes soon before he physically breaks you in half.

“Give it to me SWAT man” the grin spreads on your lips as you hear a small rumble of a laugh come from his mouth and he finds a renewed strength.

The growl he does is sexy as fuck and before you know it Brian Gamble has come hard and he knows it, his grasp on your thighs is relaxed, all energy used to keeping you pinned against the wall has gone and the pair of you look like you’re ready to drop right where you are. He pants hard as he drops his ass onto the nearest bench, his skin is sweaty and his breathing starts to come under control finally as you reach down to grab your underwear and jeans, quietly pulling them on along with your other clothing.

There was no plans to sit around in the afterglow of the mind blowing sex you’ve just had considering where you were and as you looked across to where Gamble was slowly pulling on his jeans, your smile just grows in intensity and he catches you looking at him, his own smile ghosting his lips as he stands up and zips up his jeans. The small window high up on the cell’s back wall casts sunlight into your small confined space, looking at your watch you realise that the sun is rising and the change in duty officers should be taking place soon.

There is silence between the two of you and that’s okay, you sit down on the bench and tie up your boots watching out the corner of your eye as he grabs his own discarded boots and pulls them on. In the distance you hear the clattering of doors open, voices calling out to the sleeping cell mates waking them from hangovers which most of them were suffering from. Gamble holds out your hair elastic to you which he finds in his pocket and you take it from him, pulling your hair back up into a ponytail.

“Words fail me” he says, breaking the silence between you.

“Your mouth may fail you but the rest of you worked just fine” you reply looking down at your jacket, picking it up and pulling it on before sitting down on the bench closest to the door.

“Wake up bitches, kicking out time” you both hear a loud call out and footsteps getting louder as they get nearer.

He doesn’t say anything back, no witty retort but he closes the distance between you and holds your face between his hands, his mouth finding its target and he kisses you deeply like its the last thing his heart and soul is ever going to do on the planet. Voices interrupt you both, a recognition spark in both of your eyes as you pull away from one another knowingly and each take a space on the separate benches.

“And here we are…Gamble and oooh, a very special visitor” the duty sergeant is flanked by two people as he unlocks your cell and pushes the door open wide.

“Brian” a male voice interrupts your train of thought as you both look up to see a guy dressed in a tee shirt and jeans much like Gamble.

“Jimbo, took your fucking time” Gamble grins as he looks to the quite possibly the smallest woman he has ever laid eyes on.

“Fighting in a bar, three weeks and you’re already in a jail cell” the small woman shakes her head but there’s a smile gracing her lips no matter how much she tries to hide it.

“Hetty! Come on! I didn’t start it, I just ended it in a rather spectacular fashion” you shrug holding your hands out.

“You gonna introduce me to your friend here Brian?” Jim Street looks from his friend to you and back again, the smile on his face growing.

“I..uh…didn’t get your name” Gamble sheepishly says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Thats because I never gave it to you” you smile as you move towards Hetty.

“Ah, come on now, don’t leave a guy hanging…least you can tell me what you do huh?” Gamble asks, he never did get around to asking you what you did professionally, let alone your name.

“MI6, on loan to the NCIS here in Los Angeles…here trying to track the movements of an insane Frenchman…you ever come across one trying to buy you off with millions of dollars, you just drop a line to the NCIS here and ask for Bond…James Bond” you wink at Gamble.

Hetty watches the interaction between the two of you before you linger looking at Gamble through the bars of the cell, you wish you could stay and spend more time with him but your time is limited and you know that. He stares at you and there is a knowing look in his eyes as he finally turns and grabs his own jacket, when he looks back expecting to see you, you are gone.

“You seem to be making the most of your time here” Hetty says through pursed lips.

“Its L.A. Hetty, what can I say?” you shrug as you follow her out of the corridor.

“Did I hear that young man mention the name Gamble?” Hetty asks you as the main doors to the precinct open and you walk out into the sunshine, slightly blinded as you shield your face from its rays, your eyes slowly becoming accustomed to the brightness.

“Yes, apparently he is in SWAT” you answer as Hetty motions you to a waiting car when you recognize a guy from the night before, Deeks you think his name is.

“Ah, that Gamble, apparently he is a royal pain in the ass” Hetty watches as Deeks holds open the passenger door for her and gives you a knowing look.

“You let them lead me away in cuffs, I owe you for that” you point at him and he grimaces.

“They threw me out of a window” he pleads.  
“You get her number?” Jim asks Gamble as the pair of them saunter into the parking lot and climb into Streets car.

“You tell Fuller?” Gamble counters as he notes a car starting up and looks across to see you sat in the back of it and he stops and stares.

“Fuck no, you really want Fuller to know you threw an LA detective out the bar window?” Jim looks at his friend and laughs, memories for both of you come flooding back as Gamble recognizes Deeks.

“Son of a bitch” Gamble mutters spotting the guy behind the wheel, catching you smiling at him as the car leaves the car lot and disappears into the crowded city streets of Los Angeles, his own grin growing by the second.


End file.
